The Choices We Make
by Scared of Pennies
Summary: The Winchesters run into more than a little trouble at the bank.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **This was written for Round 2 of the SFTCOL(AR)S Summer fic exchange and this round was Angst so of course I had to sign up! This was written from Sendintheclowns' prompt but I wont tell you the whole prompt because it will give away the plot. Anyway I hope you like this!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, the plot isn't even mine

**Warnings: **Language, Violence also Limp!Sam

**Summary:** The Winchester definitely hated banks but it looks like the feeling is mutual.

-----------------------------

Sam frowned and leant his aching head against the cool window pane of the Impala as Dean's 'mullet rock' continued to blast from the stereo at an ungodly volume. He massaged his temples in a vain attempt to alleviate the throbbing.

Their last hunt had led to a rather unfortunate run in with a poltergeist and Sam had learnt to fly for a few seconds before cruelly impacting with a wall. Once Dean had checked Sam was okay he had found the whole thing rather amusing whilst Sam hadn't been too pleased about the concussion he had been left with.

He sighed and closed his eyes. They had been baiting each other, arguing and snapping ever since that hunt and Sam was frankly too tired to deal with it anymore. He knew it should be expected, spending such a large amount of time with one person was bound to lead to periods like this one but it didn't mean he had to like it.

As another song began to play Dean began to sing along and turned the stereo up even louder and Sam groaned.

"Dean have you ever heard of noise pollution?" Sam yelled over the music. Dean looked at him and grinned.

"Nope" He replied and cranked it up another knotch. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm surprised you can hear anything." He mumbled, rubbing at his head again.

"Look Dean can you turn it down a bit please?" Sam asked his voice weary as Dean turned left and looked across at Sammy.

"Sorry didn't quite catch that." Dean said with a grin, turning the volume up to its highest.

Sam groaned and turned away, leaning back on the seat and closing his eyes. He couldn't be bothered with this anymore. Sammy baiting was not his favourite activity but it seemed to be Dean's.

Sam glanced out the window and sighed. He couldn't remember the name of the town they were in but they were going to have to stop off for a while. Both of them were exhausted and needed to look for another hunt.

He felt the car pull to a halt and he sat up, looking across at Dean who had finally turned off the stereo.

"Why are we stopping?" Sam asked, confused.

"I told you earlier, we need to go to the bank, I think that knock to the head screwed up your melon head even more. Now hop to it." He said gesturing to the city bank they were parked outside of.

"I'm not going in, you go in. You're the one that wouldn't refuse that check the old woman gave us, under one of our stolen credit card names I might add. I'm not going in there and getting caught for fraud." Sam said as Dean sighed.

"C'mon Sam you know I hate banks, with all the quiet, nerdy women, the queuing. Sam you know I can't queue." Dean begged looking at the bank like it was evil. Sam shook his head.

"Well I don't want to go either. I probably wont hear anything they say to me, I think you've perforated my eardrum." Sam said rubbing at his ear. Dean snorted.

"Stop being such a girl Samantha…Look if you go in there I'll…do all the laundry for a month." He said.

"Dean last time you did the laundry you dyed all my clothes pink. I had to walk around looking like a friggin marshmallow." Sam said remembering how much Dean had laughed when they took the clothes from the washing machine. Funny how none of Dean's clothes were in there at the time.

"Fine, if you go in I _wont_ do laundry for a month." Dean said with a grin and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean I always have to do this stuff. Just go in and do it, it'll be fine." Sam said.

"You do it then…look Sam I'm wanted for bank robbery, they probably have my picture hanging on the friggin' wall and no doubt it will be a bad one which is just embarrassing…plus it's boring in there and I don't want to." Dean finished petulantly. Sam sighed wearily and rubbed at his head again.

"You're such an ass." He mumbled.

"That may be Sammy but I'm an ass who isn't going into that bank." Dean said with a sickening smile that made Sam want to punch him.

"Whatever, fine I'll go. Jerk." He said darkly as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out the car.

"Ooh Sammy, get me some food too before I eat the upholstery." Dean called after Sam who was already stalking over to the bank.

Sam pushed through the double doors and stepped into the bank and groaned at the huge queue that spiraled around the marble foyer.

"Great." He muttered. He walked over and joined the back of the queue, reaching for his wallet he fumbled for the credit card and the check that was tucked into his pocket. He cursed as he dropped his wallet and bent down to pick it up but suddenly found a warm hand placed on top of his own.

Looking up he came face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes. The woman blushed and handed the wallet to him.

"Sorry." She said softly. Sam smiled at her, taking in her long blonde hair, pretty features and beautiful eyes.

"It's okay." He said somewhat breathlessly. Regaining himself he smiled, what had Dean said about nerdy women?

"Is it always this busy?" He asked gesturing at the huge queue. The woman smiled and nodded.

"Pretty much. You're not from around here then?" She asked.

"I'm passing through, stopping off for a few days." Sam replied, moving forward as the queue moved up one space.

"Pretty random place to stop off, I mean there isn't exactly a lot here, look the bank is obviously the social scene of the town." She said and Sam laughed. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea coming in here after all. If he left with a number Dean was going to be royally pissed.

"I'm on a roadtrip with my brother." He explained. It wasn't exactly a lie…

"Oh awesome. I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip, see the whole country." She said, blue eyes sparkling.

"You should. It's a good thing to do. But you have to choose your company well. Even though my brother's an ass I guess you could say he livens things up a bit…I'm Sam by the way." He said holding out his hands and flashing her a smile which was all dimples and gleaming teeth. The woman took his hand.

"Laura."

"So.." Sam began but he was cut off by the doors slamming open and the rippling blast of gunfire echoing through the room. People began to scream and more gunfire blasted through the air and suddenly Sam felt warmth spatter across his face and he looked ahead. Laura stood there staring blankly, a bullet hole through the centre of her forehead. She dropped to the floor with a muffled thump and all Sam could do was stare at her dead, glazed eyes.

"Everybody get down!" One of the gunmen yelled.

Sam didn't move, unable to stop staring at the girl. She was dead. He could feel her blood on his face.

Jessica, Madison…

"You, I said get down you moron or you'll end up like blondie." He said pointing a gun at Sam who stood there. He heard the click of the trigger and numbly lowered himself to the ground. He wiped the blood from his face and willed his stomach to stop churning as he saw the dark blood spreading across the marble floor.

"Now if everybody does as we say, nobody else will get hurt." The man yelled, voice slightly muffled by the ski-mask he was wearing.

Sam lay there on the floor and he chuckled dryly. Typical. Abso-fucking-lutely typical.

----------------------

Dean drummed on the dashboard impatiently, smiling appreciatively as a particularly hot girl walked past only to have her sneer at him.

He looked away dejected. Must be a lesbian. He thought absently as he waited for Sam to come out.

He watched as a group of men walked into the bank and sighed. This was going to take ages and he was absolutely starving. He felt kinda bad for making Sam go in there even though he was exhausted and he could tell he was still feeling the effects of the concussion but Dean couldn't risk going in there.

Dean was pulled from his reverie but the sharp sound of gunfire and he immediately looked over to the bank, his mouth went dry and all the air seemed to vanish from the car.

Shit.

Sammy.

--------------------

**A/N **Sorry it's a bit on the short side. The fun is only just beginning! Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **Thanks for the great reviews guys! I kind of just sat down and wrote this so there are probably loads of mistakes and errors it probably doesn't even make sense, it was late lol.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, the plot isn't even mine

**Warnings: **Language, Violence also Limp!Sam

**Summary:** The Winchesters definitely hated banks but it looks like the feeling was mutual.

-----------------------------

Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead, glazed blue ones that gazed sightlessly up at the ceiling. The dark blood was pooling around her head, red streaking through her golden hair, blonde like Jessica. Sam swallowed hard, bile creeping up his throat.

She was dead. He had been talking to her and then bang, the next second she was dead. Maybe he really was cursed. As he stared at her he didn't see her face anymore, it was Madison's face, Jessica's face, dead eyes glaring accusations.

He looked away, instead staring at the three men in ski masks who were yelling something at everyone but Sam seemed to have lost the capacity to take in words. All he could hear was the gunshot ringing in his ears.

The same shot that had sounded when the bullet impacted into Madison's chest.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be near Laura's body. He wanted Dean.

The man who seemed to be the leader, shouted something again and a man in a suit stood up, hands raised.

The gun was waved again, trigger clicking and the suited man walked over to the doors, hands still held over his head in surrender. He pulled keys from his pocket and began to lock the doors.

They were locking them in. Shit, not good.

Sam could hear crying to his left and saw a woman cradling her young daughter, trying to soothe her as she cried into her mother's shoulder. An old woman to his right appeared to be praying, holding her rosary and muttering.

Sam wished he still had that faith.

All he had faith in now was Dean.

-------------------

Dean scrambled out of the car, gunshots still echoing in his ears. What was it with them and banks?

He sprinted over to the doors and pulled hard, trying to yank them open only to find it didn't even budge. Ignoring the jarring pain in his shoulder he tried again.

Fuck, they were locked.

He swore loudly and kicked the doors.

This definitely wasn't good.

He had no way of knowing that Sam was even still alive in there. The thought made his stomach turn and he resisted the surge of panic raging within him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It was worth a try.

The phone rang, once, twice…

--------------------

The tense silence that had settled over the bank as the three men talked lowly amongst themselves was shattered by the sudden ringing of a cell phone.

Sam jumped as he realised it was his and felt himself flush as he realised Dean had changed his ringtone to 'I'm Coming Out' he could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on him.

The masked men immediately drew their guns and pointed them at Sam's face.

"Slide over the cell phone…NOW." He yelled his gruff voice echoing through the room, cocking the gun. Sam flinched and held up his hands. He slid the still ringing cell phone across the floor where the man picked it up and hung up before crunching the phone beneath his boot.

"Nice ring tone." One of the men remarked with a smirk.

Sam knew it had been Dean calling. He stared miserably at the shattered phone and felt relief wash over him as the guns were withdrawn from his face. Having three guns pointed at you simultaneously was not an experience he wanted to relive.

----------------------

Dean swore as the dial tone sounded in his ear.

"God-damn it Sammy." He said under his breath as he looked up at the bank wondering what the hell he was going to do.

He paced along the sidewalk, running a hand through his hair impatiently. It wasn't like he could call the cops…

Then he suddenly thought, if there was another entrance he could get in that way. He wasn't going to leave his brother alone in there.

He popped the trunk and grabbed his .45, sliding it into the back of his jeans and locked the car. He slipped down the side alley of the bank and looked around for another door. He frowned when he found no other entrance.

Sighing he wracked his brains for some way of getting in there or getting Sam out. He leant against the reeking dumpster and looked around desperately. He needed to get to Sam. That kid had the worst friggin luck in the world.

He goes into a bank and it gets robbed.

_But he's only in there because you sent him in there_

Dean kicked the dumpster angrily, ignoring his now throbbing toe. This could turn into a full-blown hostage situation, lasting all day, it could lead to a shoot-out or even if they let everyone out the police will be asking questions and Sam couldn't afford to talk to the police.

Then something caught Dean's eye and a smile eased across his face.

He had his way in.

------------------

"Get in the back and round everyone up, bring them in here. They try anything funny kill them." One of the men said to the other. The shorter, stockier guy nodded and left the room.

They weren't taking any chances. Sam shifted slightly, his already aching muscles were protesting from lying down in the same position for too long and he wanted to move.

"If everyone here co-operates, shuts up, stays still and does nothing this will be over and we'll be gone and you can get back to doing whatever the hell you do but if anyone causes any trouble I won't hesitate in blowing your head off." The leader of the three yelled.

Sam sighed, rubbing his still throbbing head. This really wasn't his day.

Everyone looked up as the other man entered leading other bank-workers from the back room in a line.

"Right now, down to business."

The tallest man strode over the cash desk and tapped on the glass tauntingly with his pistol. The girl behind the glass flinched, staring up at the man with fearful eyes.

"Right sweetheart, you're going to hand over the cash box and if you try to do anything, raise the alarm, dye packs then I'll kill you okay? Fair Deal?" He said in a sickeningly sweet voice. The girl nodded tearfully and reached under the counter. She unlocked the cash-box her hands trembling and pulled out several large wads of cash.

Sam willed her not to trigger the alarm; just let them leave with the money so they could all get out of here.

The money was passed through the small window and the robbers shoved it into their rucksack quickly.

Let it be over now. Sam thought desperately.

"Now, who here has the vault combination?" The man asked with a grin.

-----------------------

Dean wriggled with difficulty through the narrow confines of the vent, hoping he was going the right way.

He hadn't really thought this through. He didn't know where to go, where it would be safe to drop out or how when he was in there he would actually get to Sam without being noticed.

Of course if it had been Sam he would have planned the whole thing out, thought it through and come up with a plan but he wasn't Sam. He was more of a 'go in all guns firing' kind of guy.

He sighed with relief as he saw the light from a grate up ahead. That meant he was coming up to an actual room and maybe somewhere he could get out. He army crawled through the narrow vent before he reached the grate.

Peering down through the slats he could see he was above an empty office. Slotting his fingers between the slats he yanked the grate up and pushed it aside. He sat up, dropping his legs through the hole and gripping the sides with his hands; he carefully lowered himself down before dropping down to the ground.

As he hit the ground he looked around quickly. It was all clear, he could hear muffled voices. They must be close. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get in there without being noticed.

-------------------

The whole room fell silent and nobody answered the man's question. The tension was palpable as the three masked men looked around angrily.

"Somebody in here has to know…how about I start shooting until somebody tells me."

He raised the gun and pointed it at the young mother and her daughter, smiling.

"What a pretty little girl." He said softly.

The little girl whimpered and hugged her mother tightly whilst the mother began to cry.

"Please…" She begged tearfully.

There was an audible click as he cocked the trigger and Sam shuddered. He didn't think he could watch another innocent person die.

"Such a shame." He said softly, fingers tightening on the trigger.

There was a long pause and Sam looked away, waiting for the shot but hoping it wouldn't come. How could anyone point a gun at a child?

"Wait!" A man suddenly interjected. The gunman spun around and a man with a suit was standing up, hands raised.

"I know the combination." The man said shakily.

Sam looked at his watch. They'd only been in here 20 minutes but it had felt like a lifetime.

-----------------

From his spot crouched behind a desk Dean could see through the window that the three men were talking, their backs were turned and this might be his only chance.

Moving quickly he exited the room and walked slowly into the room, people looked up from their spots on the floor as he silently walked through, spotting Sam's unruly mop of hair sitting to the right he scooted over and dropped down next to him causing Sam to jump out of his skin.

"Holy Shit…Dean?" He whispered incredulously as Dean grinned.

"The one and only." He whispered back.

"What are you doing?" He asked as Dean looked at his brother, checking him over and finding him unscathed.

"I heart gunshots, I wanted to see what was going on. It was boring outside." Dean said with a smile as Sam shook his head, staring at his brother in amazement.

"So you broke in here? Are you crazy?" Sam asked quietly as Dean studied the three men in the corner, sirens still wailing outside.

"Crazy? No. Incredibly handsome, yes." Dean said and Sam wondered how his brother could be so calm and collected after breaking into a bank full of armed robbers.

"Dean, you should have stayed outside…what if they saw you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah well they didn't and I wasn't exactly going to leave you in here by yourself, god knows what you'd do unsupervised I mean there are pennies and things that you could put up your nose and…"

"Shutup Dean." Sam said unable to keep the grin from his face. He may be annoyed at his brother for putting himself in danger by sneaking in but it felt better to have him there.

"So what's been going on." Dean asked looking at his brother. Sam was about to reply when a shadow fell over the pair of them and a blinding pain struck the side of his head. His vision went dark for a second and he felt his head hit the floor, there was wetness on the side of his face and he could hear Dean yelling his name.

"I said no talking, are you retarded or something?" The gunman asked as Sam groaned from the floor.

Dean was staring at the man with a murderous glint in his eye as Sam clutched at his head, ears ringing and eyes unfocused. The only thing stopping him from ripping the guy apart there and then was the gun pointed at him and the other on Sam.

The man studied Dean, frowning slightly as Dean broke his gaze away from him and looked across at Sam. He tried to move across to him but he found a hand on his chest, the gun pointed at his face.

"Don't Move…Wait…you weren't in here before." The guy said and Dean blanched slightly.

"What?" He said trying to pass off as being nonchalant.

"No…you weren't in here before. I got a good look at everyone in here and you weren't there." The guy said suddenly assured of himself. Dean tried his best to look honestly confused but he was worried about Sam, his head was bleeding a lot and he'd already had one too many knocks to the head, he didn't need another one.

"I'm gonna ask you this once. How did you get in here?" He asked lowly. Dean swallowed looking across at Sam who was holding his head and groaning softly. Dean was surprised he was still conscious, being pistol-whipped wasn't fun.

Dean flinched as the hard, cold metal of the gun was placed against his forehead.

"I'm thinking you and your little friend over there are cops and I'm thinking I have no reason not to blow your brains out right now." He said and Dean swallowed hard.

This was not going the way he planned.

"So you're gonna tell me what you're doing in here or I'll blow both your heads off, starting with your little friend over there." He said cocking the gun in Sam's direction.

Dean flinched and looked desperately across at Sam who was clutching his head, eyes closed and teeth gritted in pain. The clock was ticking and the guy was getting more and more pissed off and there was still a gun pointed at his brother.

"Okay I uh…I crawled in through the vent." Dean said quickly, feeling heat on his face as everyone looked at him. The guy frowned.

"And why the hell would you do that?" He demanded angrily, spit flying onto Dean's cheek. Dean wiped it away quickly, sneering despite the fear he felt.

"Dude, I asked for the news not the weather." He said but instantly regretted the comment as the gun clicked in Sam's direction and he barely had time to react to the fist flying at his face. He stumbled backwards, cheek throbbing angrily as he winced and struggled to regain his composure as his ears rang.

"Dean…" Sam's strained voice said quietly and Dean looked across at his brother who even through his dazed appearance was begging his brother.

"Now tell me why you're here." The guy said, thrusting the gun at his face again.

"Look I'm not a cop okay…I…I had to come in here to get my brother, nothing else." He said raising his hands to show his surrender.

"Whatever, I'll deal with you later. Now I need the combination to the vault..you" He said pointing to the guy in the suit who was sweaty profusely.

The gunman's reply was cut off by the wailing of sirens and red and blue lights danced across the walls of the bank as several police cars drew up outside.

"Shit, who called the fucking cops?" One of the other men yelled, panicked. The other man drew his gun away from Dean and walked over to the cashier.

"She must have triggered the alarm…Bitch!" He yelled angrily, pounding against the glass causing the young girl to flinch, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Leave her alone." A man shouted from behind Dean.

"You shut the fuck up." The man said waving the gun a somewhat manic edge to his voice as he paced impatiently, the two other robbers looking to him for answers. Dean couldn't help but grin.

"Oh you're really panicking now." Dean said lightly.

"Shutup." He yelled in return before turning away and continuing to pace, beckoning the other two men over.

Satisfied that their attention was no longer on him Dean rushed over to his brother's side.

"Sam…Sam c'mon let me look at it." Dean said as Sam tried to shy away from his prying hands. He reluctantly tilted his head, dizzying at the shift in movement as his head spun and throbbed.

Dean swallowed hard at the amount of blood and at the small white glint of skull. Shit they had fucked up his brother's head pretty good.

"Don' feel good Dean…"Sam mumbled. For some reason he could seem to string his words together properly. It was like his brain had been replaced with cotton wool. The room was still spinning.

"I'm not surprised Sam. I need to stop this bleeding okay, it's gonna hurt." He said softly and Sam didn't reply, he was just sitting there, face pale and blood standing out starkly. Dean shrugged off his overshirt and balled it up, he pressed down on his brother's head causing him to flinch and duck away, moaning slightly.

"Sorry."

Sam tried to control the churning nausea but it was getting worse with each steady pound in his head. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe if he did it would be over when he woke up. Just for a little bit.

"Hey, hey, don't you go to sleep on me Sammy." Dean said, tapping his brother's face lightly causing Sam's heavy eyelids to slowly slide open.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled hoarsely.

"Right, everybody if anyone tries any funny business when the cops are here we won't hesitate to kill you." He said his gaze lingering on Dean who glared back.

Even in his concussed, pain hazed mind Sam knew that the cops being here wasn't good. The other people seemed to have looks of hope on their face, relief but Sam knew the cops coming just overcomplicated everything and it meant things would take that much longer.

"We have the bank surrounded, come out with your hands behind your head." A tinny voice sounded from the megaphone outside.

The warning sounded again but the men ignored it. This was definitely not good. Sam looked across at Dean who had the same expression on his face. This wasn't going to be clean-cut and over. This was going to get messy.

That was when all the lights went out and the air conditioning shuttered and died with a groan.

The cops had cut the power.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** Sorry for the delay! I've been really busy and I'm really behind with this fic, it's supposed to be finished by Friday! uh oh, I'm gonna have to start on the next chapter tonight have it up by tomorrow and then the last up on Friday. Anyway thanks for the reviews! Hope you like it and again thanks to Sendintheclowns for the prompt!

* * *

Several people let out cries of surprise as the lights cut out but sunlight was still creeping in through the windows. The three robbers cursed and began talking urgently amongst themselves. Dean swore under his breath and sighed.

Things just kept getting worse, the cops obviously thought this was going to be the long-haul but Dean wanted nothing more than to get out of here, he and Sam couldn't afford to be seen in a bank let alone one being robbed.

Dean looked across at Sam who was sitting, well leaning propped up against the cash desk. His chin was against his chest and his eyes were closed, blood still trickling from his head wound and marking crimson trails down his pale face.

He tapped his brother's face with one hand and shook him gently with the other.

"Hey Sammy, stay awake. You can't fall asleep on me." He said as Sam blinked at him blearily, eyelids half mast and eyes slow and unfocused as they looked around the bank.

"Sorry." He slurred and Dean swallowed hard feeling a surge of anger. They had given his brother one hell of a knock to the head.

"What did I tell you about putting pressure on it?" He said quietly, glancing over at the three men who were still conversing, voices rising slightly and Dean could hear the panic in their voices but he wasn't comforted by it. Fear was dangerous. Fear made people reckless, brash.

Dean felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck and he began to realise just how hot it was in here without the air con. It was a hot day and everyone packed into one room with no air conditioning was making the air humid and thick.

Dean sat back next to his brother and looked around. He still had the gun tucked into the back of his pants and he thanked whatever god there may be that they hadn't checked him. It was his last resort for getting out of here.

Looking across at Sam he saw a sheen of sweat lacing across Sam's face and he knew the heat was starting to get to his brother.

"Sam take off your jacket." He said lowly and Sam sluggishly looked across at him. The slightest noise was causing his head to flare in pain and talking was even worse. He felt like his brain had been filled with cotton wool. He just couldn't string his thoughts together coherently. He just wanted to sleep.

Knowing his brother wasn't lucid enough to understand him fully he began maneuvering his brother's long limbs and pulling off his jacket.

"Dean…I wanna go home." Sam mumbled sounding very much like he had as a small child and there was almost a whine to his voice. Dean frowned, Sam's brain must really be scrambled if he was whining.

"I know the feeling Sammy, just sit tight and stay awake and it'll be over soon." Dean said as Sam nodded and winced heavily.

Sam looked across at his brother and even through his pain induced haze he could see the worry written across his brother's face. He could tell Dean knew this wasn't going to be easy, that there was a large possibility of them getting caught by the cops or worse getting shot, especially if Dean kept going with his smartass comments.

The room was spinning, his head was pounding and his stomach was churning and he just wished they had never stopped off in this butt-hole town at all.

"You should have stayed in the car." Sam slurred quietly and Dean turned to face his brother sharply, he couldn't tell if it was an accusation or merely a throw away comment. He didn't have time to think about it however as Sam leant over and promptly vomited. Dean grimaced as Sam heaved and the contents of his stomach hit the floor with a wet splatter.

Skirting out of the way as Sam heaved again Dean rubbed his brother's back soothingly but turning away from the smell.

"Jesus Christ…fucking great now we have to sit here with this stench." The tallest man said angrily, kicking Sam's leg hard as he passed. Something similar to a feral growl escaped Dean's lips.

"Touch him again and it will be the last thing you do," He snarled whilst the man only smirked in return.

"Look who's trying to be a smartass again." He taunted silkily as Dean gritted his teeth. Sam let out a small moan next to him and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, panting slightly.

"Look who's succeeding at being a dumbass." Dean retorted angrily. The two other men looked over warily.

"Do you really think it's wise to talk back to me when I have gun pointed at your head and another pointed at your brother?" He asked with a sickening smile whilst Dean could only scowl in return.

The man walked away back to his little cronies and Dean turned to Sam.

"You okay?" He whispered. Sam looked across at him sluggishly, really struggling to keep his eyes open. He held out an uncoordinated hand signaling 'so so'. Dean let a strained smile onto his face.

"That's one hell of a concussion Sammy, you'd think that pumpkin head of yours would be more resistant." He said and Sam smiled lopsidedly.

"I thought…it was melon." He said with a smile but Dean could still see the lines of pain on his brother's face.

"Yeah well, I felt like changing it up a bit. Actually a pumpkin is too round, yours is kinda funny shaped…Maybe a guava." Dean said and Sam let out a snort of laughter which was quickly cut off by wince as his head throbbed.

Dean leant over to check his brother's pupil's but he was interrupted by the short guy, who seemed to be in charge walking towards the crowd of terrified people and pointing at the bank worker who had told him he knew the vault code earlier.

"You're gonna take me into that vault…now." He said menacingly and the guy looked up with wide, fearful eyes, sweat dripping down his pale face as he got shakily to his feet.

"They've cut the power…th…that means nobody can get into the vault. The keypad runs of the mains power…for…for security reasons." The guy stammered, his voice trembling as the robber's face turned thunderous whilst the other two looked nervous.

"You're going to get us into that vault." The man said slowly in a dangerous tone, enunciating each word as the suited banker cowered, trembling as he backed against the wall.

"I can't…I'm sorry but it…" The banker's quivering pleas were cut off by a deafening gunshot and crimson spattered up the marble walls in an angry spray. Several women screamed and a young child started crying as the man slid down the wall into a crumpled heap.

The screaming stopped and women stifled their cries as the gunman turned around, surveying the terrified crowd of people before him. Nobody dared make a sound.

However, the brief silence was shattered as rapid gunfire resounded, windows shattering and red dots dancing across the walls as snipers fired from the roofs of nearby buildings.

It was absolute chaos as people scrambled to the sides, desperate to avoid the spray of bullets as glass rained down on them. Dean moved instinctively in front of Sam who barely seemed to be aware of what was going on but nevertheless he grasped weakly at Dean's shirt as he shielded him.

Sunlight caught the shards as they fell and light bounced off the walls and the gunfire ceased.

Ears ringing, Dean looked up.

People were still crouched together, hands over their head but he could see two bodied sprawled on the floor a few meters away, their faces covered by balaclavas and dark blood pooling around their still forms.

Where was the other guy? Dean thought as other people began to look up, looking around hopeful that the three men were all dead and that the police would come in and save the day. If only Dean could still think like that. In fact he'd never looked to the police for help or as meaning salvation, they only meant trouble and questions they couldn't afford to answer.

They'd probably have a few minutes before the cops came to get out of here undetected.

"C'mon Sammy get up." He said trying to heave an uncooperative Sam to his feet however he just groaned and swatted Dean's hand away.

"Leave me alone." He mumbled and Dean couldn't help but smirk being reminded of a surly, teenage Sam.

"We've got to get out of here now get your scrawny ass up." He said sliding his hands under Sam's armpits and heaving him up to his feet where he swayed unsteadily, blinking dazedly.

"M'Tired." Sam mumbled and Dean swung his arm across his shoulders helping him to walk.

"Don't Move."

Dean froze as he felt the push of the cold metal of a gun pressed against his skull.

"Turn around." The voice said slowly and Dean swallowed with difficulty, his mouth felt like sandpaper as he slowly turned, Sam stumbling slightly but regaining himself.

"Sit back down, you're not going anywhere." He said and Dean's heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage, echoing in his ears.

"Look man, the cops are here you're friends are dead. It's just you. You could get out of here, get away with the cash and never look back. The longer you stay here the more likely you're gonna get caught." Dean said quickly eyes pleading as the man held the gun steady.

"Shutup." He said gruffly but Dean wasn't giving up, he needed to get Sam out of here.

"Seriously man, you've already killed people. They're gonna catch you and you're gonna be locked up and they'll throw away the key. You have the chance to get out." He said quickly as the cops sounded another warning from outside the doors.

"Sit down." The man growled

"If you let people go they'll go easy on you." Dean said as Sam leant on him heavily, the room spinning as he tried to keep his balance and focus, he couldn't afford to be out of it.

"Just Shut up!" He yelled clicking the gun off safety and pointing it between Dean's eyes. Panting heavily, eyes gleaming with anger he held the gun steady. Dean nodded mutely and glanced across at Sam before lowering him to the ground and sitting down next to him.

"I need to think." He said mainly to himself as he paced. The silence was palpable as Dean watched his pacing movements with increased anger. He just wanted to get the fuck out of here, what was he playing at? He knew he couldn't get the money and the cops were outside.

The cops were closing in and neither of the Winchester brothers could afford to be in here when they did. Dean reached into his back pocket and felt for the gun again, relieved by the feel of the cool metal beneath his finger tips.

He would use it if he had to; he needed to get him and Sam out of here. He needed to keep Sam safe; he had already failed at that job once today.

Dean watched as the man placed the gun on the counter and leant against it, he pulled off his balaclava and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Sam swallowed hard as he saw the man remove his balaclava. If he was showing his face that was a bad sign. They could remember what he looked like. It usually meant they had no intention of leaving anyone alive.

Ignoring the agony in his head and the churning in his stomach he looked across at Dean who was watching the man carefully.

"Dean, why did you come in here?" He asked quietly. Dean turned to Sam and frowned, noticing the sweat lacing his face. He could feel his own shirt sticking to him in the unbearable heat.

"I told you Sam, I wasn't going to leave you in here. God knows what you'd get up to when left to your own devices." He said and Sam swallowed hard, guilt eating away at him. It was his fault Dean was in here, his fault Dean was in danger.

"You shouldn't have come in here. You could have been killed." Sam said the slur still distinct in his words as he struggled to remain lucid. The sight of a gun being pointed at his brother was still fresh in his mind.

"Sam, it was my choice. End of." He said shortly and Sam fell silent.

"This is the police, if you don't come out or make contact we'll come in with force. Let the hostages go." The tinny voice cut through the silence and everyone looked up.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken and the woman next to Dean held on more tightly to her daughter who was crying silently.

"C'mon, just let everybody go." Dean said quietly getting to his feet and the gunman remained silent.

Sam watched his brother cautiously. Why couldn't he just sit down and wait it out.

Dean couldn't let him know he had a weapon. He needed him to think he was harmless, that he had the upper hand. Dean was getting closer and closer without the guy realising what he was doing. He could reach for his gun at the last minute, knock the other towards Sammy. He was making this up as he went along but that's what happened with most of his plans and they couldn't afford to sit and wait to get caught.

He was in the right place, he could easily get a good shot in and reach for the gun. He'd think about actually getting out of there when the time came. Quick as lightning, his hunter reflexes paying off he grasped the gun from his back pocket and whipped it out.

But the man was just as quick, grabbing his gun he shot forward tackling Dean who let out an oomph as the air rushed out of his lungs and his ribs protested angrily as the pair went tumbling backwards hitting the ground.

People started to scream and the clatter could be heard across the room as Dean's gun slid from his grasp and skittered across the floor. As the man pointed the gun at Dean a look of hatred on his face Dean knew he had a split second to react. His head shot forward colliding with the gunman's and he blinked stars away, head throbbing.

He was aware of Sam shouting his name as he shot forward, tumbling on top of the heavy-set guy and scrabbling for the gun which was held tightly in his pudgy fist.

Sam watched in horror as Dean wrestled for the gun, his heart pounding relentlessly against his ribs and blood rushing in his ears. He couldn't just let this happen, he couldn't let Dean die. He wouldn't have been in here in the first place if it wasn't for Dean's ridiculous need to throw himself into danger for the sake of Sam.

Sam wasn't going to let Dean die, not for his sake.

He edged forward looking around frantically for Dean's gun, if he could just find it he could end this. He was struck by a wave of dizziness and he swallowed the bile that crept up his throat.

Dean felt a fist collide with his jaw and he furiously kneed the guy in the stomach driving all his strength into the kick, the man's grip on the gun lessened but did not falter.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you." The man growled breathlessly, slamming Dean's hand against the hard floor in an effort to get him to release the gun.

"Dean!" Sam yelled from somewhere to his right but Dean was too busy receiving an elbow to the nose. A crack and then blinding pain as warmth rushed down his face, tasting copper and blinking through watered eyes he groaned.

Slamming the large guy's hand down again a shot rang out. Realising it had hit neither of them Dean took advantage of the surprise of his opponent and yanked the gun from his grip and bought it down with a sickening thud to his skull causing him to immediately crumple and Dean shoved him off with a grunt.

He got shakily to his feet, the room spinning from the dizzying blows he had received and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

"Christ Sam his head is harder than yours." Dean said rubbing his head with a grimace as he looked around for his brother.

"Sam?" He called out and the grin slid off his face as he caught sight of his brother, slumped against the wall, blood steadily blossoming across his shirt.

**A/N Sorry if that was awful I had to really rush this**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N This is the last chapter of this fic so thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. I hope sendintheclowns enjoyed it and that I didn't wreck her prompt too much :s. I rushed this a lot so I apologise!

------------------------

For Dean time seemed to stand still as he watched his brother gasp for her, slumped against the wall and looking down at his shirt as crimson seeped steadily across it. He wanted to form words, call out but his mouth seemed unwilling to co-operate with his brain as he stood there, frozen in terror.

As Sam let out a tiny moan of pain something inside Dean seemed to snap awake and he bolted towards his brother, dropping to his knees at his side.

"Fuck…Sammy." He said breathlessly as Sam looked up at his brother with glazed eyes, looking at him desperately.

Everything seemed to slide into place at once. Dean slamming the man's hand down, the gun going off. He'd though it hadn't hit anyone…it hit Sam.

"Sam where were you hit?" He asked urgently as he pulled back Sam's shirt feeling the warm wetness of blood on his fingertips. His brother's blood. Sam gasped again, breathing hard as sweat trickled down the side of his face. The pain was mind-numbing, he could barely think straight.

"Sh…shoulder." He panted, gritting his teeth against the burning pain which had only intensified since the bullet had impacted into his flesh. This was turning out to be a really shitty day.

Dean ripped through his brother's shirt at the shoulder with trembling hands and grimaced, swallowing hard as he saw the bullet hole. Blood was steadily leaking from the wound. He quickly pulled his brother forward and Sam let out a small yelp as Dean checked his brother's back for an exit wound. There wasn't one.

"Sam we need to get you to a hospital." He said as he pressed down on his brother's wound. Sam hissed in pain and gritted his teeth, trembling as he looked up at his brother.

"No Dean." He said as forcefully as his weakened state would allow.

"We can't…I…I can't let you get caught. Just…stitch me up yourself…You can fix this." He said, finding it difficult to string his sentences together. Sure his shoulder was killing him but his head wasn't forgotten.

It was said as a statement but Dean could see the question in his brother's hazel eyes, the hope and the trust that Dean would make it all okay. He paused and nodded mutely. Sam struggled to keep his eyes open as Dean looked around, noticing everyone's eyes on them and feeling uncomfortable. He didn't know exactly how they were going to get out of this.

Dean saw his jacket lying discarded to the right from when he had taken it off, the heat becoming too unbearable. He quickly picked it up and handed it to his brother.

"Put on my jacket. If they don't think you're injured we might be able to slip away unnoticed." He said quietly as he draped the jacket around Sam, covering his bleeding shoulder. Dean paused and let out a shaky sigh as he looked at his pale, bleeding brother.

"Sam, you need to promise me that if I get caught you'll run, you'll try to get away." Dean said seriously as Sam blinked blearily and frowned.

"Dean…" He began weakly but Dean cut him off sensing the hesitation in his brother's tone.

"No Sam, you have to promise me." He said and Sam swallowed hard, pain pulsating through his head and shoulder. He felt like he was about to lose the contents of his stomach again.

"Only…only if it goes both ways." Sam said weakly and Dean sighed. He knew there was no way he'd just let Sam get dragged away and save himself.

"Fine." He lied.

Almost on cue the doors opened and boots crunched over broken glass as police filed into the room, guns raised and ready as they surveyed the interior of the bank.

"All clear, perpetrators down. Anybody hurt?" One of the SWAT team members called out. Nobody said a word and Dean held his breath. A woman shakily raised a trembling hand.

"N..no but these people are dead." She said pointing at the several sprawled out bodies before looking briefly across at Dean.

Sam could barely lift his heavy lids, they felt like ten ton weights as he struggled to keep them open and stay awake. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep.

Dean, seeing Sam slipping towards unconsciousness tapped his face and shook him gently so as not to disturb his shoulder.

"Sam!" He said sharply and Sam slowly opened his eyes muttering sorry quietly and Dean swallowed hard. His brother was suffering and he couldn't do anything about it.

He sat with Sam, putting pressure on his shoulder through the jacket and waiting as Medics came in and people began to get up and start moving around. They had to get out unnoticed.

He got to his feet and took Sam's good arm and managed to heave him to his feet where he swayed unsteadily, gaze unfocused as Dean supported him.

"One step at a time." He said quietly as they walked through the milling crowds of people, medics and police and crying hostages.

They managed to walk slowly through undetected as they reached the doors where press were milling around, news crews and ambulances parked outside, blue and red lights blaring. Dean maintained his grip on Sam who was leaning heavily against his brother, the bright daylight causing his head to throb.

Dean felt relief wash over him in waves as he spotted the Impala parked a few metres away, sunlight bouncing off the bonnet. Suddenly Sam stumbled and the pair of them almost went down as Dean grimaced, trying to support his brother's weight as he heaved him upright, Sam groaning at the strain on his shoulder.

As Sam stumbled slightly again, unable to coordinate his movements through the haze of pain they came face to face with a paramedic who eyed Sam with concern.

"Hey are you alright?" She asked surveying Sam's condition, the blood marring his pale face.

"He's fine." Dean said quickly. They were this close to the Impala, they couldn't get stopped now.

"He's bleeding, he should be looked at." The woman said as she looked at Sam's bloody head. Dean desperately tried to edge forward. They couldn't run because it would draw attention and Sam could barely walk straight anyway.

"I'm taking him to a hospital now, he doesn't like ambulances." He said knowing it sounded ridiculous. The woman eyed him skeptically before her frown deepened.

"Hey…wait a minute. I thought nobody was being let out yet?" She said quickly looking around and Dean spotted the nearby police and felt his gut wrench with panic. He had to think fast.

He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, slipping his hand into his wallet.

"We uh…We're cops lady. He hit his head when we went in there, some chick thought he was another perp because we weren't in uniform." He lied quickly, flashing a fake badge and ID. The medic paused before nodding.

"Well make sure he's looked at, you shouldn't mess around with head injuries." She said.

Yeah or bullet wounds, Dean thought darkly as he forced a smile and continued to half-drag Sam towards the car.

"You told her I…got beat up by a…chick?" Sam said between breathless gasps, sweat pouring down his face but offering a weak smile nonetheless. Dean smiled ruefully as he helped Sam into the passenger seat.

"Well it's believable, she took one look at your pansy ass and accepted it as the truth." Dean said and Sam laughed weakly then winced noticeably causing the smile to slide from Dean's face and the sense of urgency was back. His brother was still bleeding and they were still wanted.

He quickly got into the car and slammed the door shut, firing up the engine. He reversed smoothly out of the space and drove at a normal speed down the road until he could no longer see the bank, the flashing lights and news crews then he pressed his foot down on the accelerator and sped down the road, tires squealing and the engine growling.

He gripped the steering wheel hard, knuckles white as the adrenaline seemed to leave him the events of the day finally seemed to hit home. Sam had been shot and it was his fault.

He swallowed with difficulty, a painful lump in his throat as he gripped the wheel even tighter, hands feeling numb.

Glancing across at Sam he saw his eyes were closed and worry and guilt stabbed at him again painfully.

"Sam stay awake!" He yelled and his brother opened his eyes again with difficulty. Dean reached forward and turned the stereo on, cranking up the volume in an effort to keep Sam's eyes open.

The familiar opening bars of Blue Oyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper began to play and Sam snorted softly before groaning slightly in pain.

"What?" Dean asked, eyes flitting between the road and his brother.

"Oddly..a…appropriate." He said softly, voice barely above a whisper. Dean felt sick. He put on another burst of speed.

"Keep pressure on it." He ordered.

Sam clumsily pressed the balled up shirt against his sodden shoulder and hissed with pain. He didn't think he could stay awake much longer, he didn't think he could take this pain much longer. Plus, he was dangerously close to losing the contents of his stomach and his surroundings kept spinning.

"Fuck." Cried Sam as the car jolted over a pothole, jarring his shoulder. His eyes watered and he gritted his teeth.

"Shit, sorry." Dean quickly apologised as Sam tried to get a hold of himself, shoulder burning with agony and his fingers slick with blood.

After what felt like a life-age they skidded to a halt outside the motel. Sam was barely lucid as Dean hurriedly lifted him from the car, pulling his good arm across his shoulders and supporting him the short distance to the room, first aid kid in his free hand.

Propping Sam against the wall, one hand steadying him he unlocked the door and held it open with his foot as he dragged Sam through and over to the bed. He set him down and Sam lay still groaning as Dean quickly shut the door.

Heart hammering in his ears Dean pulled towels from the bathroom not caring if he'd have to pay for them when they were returned covered in blood and hurried back over to Sam.

Seeing the rip in Sam's shirt he pulled from each side, tearing it further open until Sam's chest was exposed and the shirt lay in tatters. The smell of blood hit him in an intense wave and Dean swallowed and pressed the towel down hard to staunch the flow of blood.

Sam hissed and tried to draw away from his brother but he didn't have the strength. Pressing harder Sam let out a strangled sound and Dean looked away, hating to see the pain written across his brother's face.

"I've got to get the bullet out Sam." Dean said but Sam didn't respond, he was too busy biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out. His head was pounding even more furiously than before and he couldn't stop trembling.

The gauze grew steadily scarlet, soaking up Sam's blood as Dean held it there trying to shut out the small whimpers emanating from his brother.

"I'm going to have to flush it out, we can't risk an infection and I need to see what I'm doing." He said and Sam made a small sound of acknowledgment, bracing himself. He knew how much disinfecting wounds hurt.

"Hang on a second, I think you'll need this." He said, getting up from the bed and rummaging through his bag before pulling out a bottle of jack. He unscrewed the top and handed it to Sam.

Sam took a long sip and grimaced at the fiery taste as it slid down his throat like fire. He took several more gulps before Dean set it aside, fighting the urge to drink some himself.

"Okay." Dean said softly. He peeled back the sodden gauze and steadied his shaking hands as Sam lay there, chest heaving and every muscle tensed. Dean wished he would just pass out so he didn't have to suffer through this.

He tilted the bottle and let the clear liquid pour into the wound and Sam let out a strangled yell which dissolved into soft sobs as he fisted his hands in the ratty motel quilt and clenched his teeth, panting heavily and hissing with pain. His shoulder was on fire.

"Stop…please." He begged brokenly. Dean felt like he was going to break as his brother pleaded with him, face contorted with pain as every muscle stood out, rigid.

"Sorry Sammy." He said his voice wavering slightly as he dabbed at the wound with the gauze again. Dean rummaged through the kit and pulled out the tweezers, he dipped them in the antiseptic to sterilize them and looked back down at his brother who was panting heavily.

"I can see the bullet but it's deep Sam, it's gonna hurt." He said seriously as Sam gasped breathlessly, face flushed with the extertion.

"Just…do it." He managed to gasp out looking at his brother who nodded jerkily hating that he was causing his brother so much pain. Steadying himself he readied the tweezers, hovering over the wound and holding his breath against the overwhelming smell of blood and antiseptic. Blood was under his nails, in the cracks of his skin, on his clothes.

He could feel the tension radiating from Sam as he drew closer. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt his brother any more.

He guided the tweezers down and spotted the bullet, glinting in the dim motel room lighting. He clamped the tweezers down on either side of the bullet and pulled, Sam hissing through clenched teeth and breathing heavily as he yanked it out.

Sam let out a small whimper and he couldn't help the tear that escaped from his eye as Dean set the bullet down on the nightstand, breathing heavily as his brother lay there face paper-white.

Sam swallowed hard and felt his stomach churning dangerously.

Dean recognized the green tinge that crept onto Sam's face and quickly his arm shot out, grabbing the trash-can and shoving it under Sam's chin just as he heaved and vomit came pouring out, hitting the base with a splatter.

Scrunching up his nose Dean looked away as his brother coughed, heaved again and spat, trembling as he hovered over the trash-can.

"That was…disgusting." Dean remarked, satisfied his brother was done he moved the trash can aside.

"I guess concussions and bullet wounds don't mix huh?" Dean mumbled as he checked on the wound again, satisfied to see the bleeding had at least slowed.

Sam swallowed with a grimace, the sour taste of vomit still present in his mouth as he breathed in and out raggedly, sweat covering him as he tried to block out the pounding in his head and the fire in his shoulder.

"The bleeding is slowing down, once it's stopped I'll stitch it up. Your head will need stitching too."

Sam nodded jerkily and regretted it as his head throbbed angrily.

"Listen I uh…I'm sorry about…" He mumbled guilt eating away at him as he eyed the bloody bedsheets.

"Shutup…wasn't your fault." Sam slurred. Dean looked away, not able to look at his brother's blood covered face.

They fell into silence and Dean busied himself by cleaning the blood away from Sam's head wound which luckily had stopped bleeding and was starting to clot.

"I was thinking…" Sam said suddenly and Dean looked up.

"Don't hurt yourself Sammy."

"Shutup…I was thinking that…next time…we should do our banking…online." Sam panted and Dean snorted.

"I think you're right…for once." Dean added with a grin and Sam smiled weakly.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

**A/N Thanks for reading this, tell me what you thought and thanks for all the great reviews:D**


End file.
